Monday, November 28, 2011

For
some reason, early Thanksgiving week I had the bright vision of playing a touch
football game on Thanksgiving. I envisioned all of us old uncles playing our
young nephews. Most of our nephews are in high school or in college. I figured
we old folks could take them on. I miscalculated.

First
of all, most of the old uncles did not want to play. They all wanted to sit, digest
their turkey, and wait for the Cowboys to come on TV.

Only one
fellow competitor dared to dream as I did. David Denman, my wife's brother, had
been thinking exactly the same thing I had. He thought it was a marvelous idea.

The other problem was this–only two of the young whippersnappers wanted to
play. The others muttered excuses such as, “I don't want to get hot and sweaty
and come back and watch the ballgame.” So, it was my brother-in-law, two faithful and godly collegiate nephews-- and my wonderful, loyal eight-year-old son,
Timothy, who finally motored over to the Cleburne High School practice field to
play.

It
was a nice day for football. The wind was blowing pretty hard, but that did not
seem to be much of a problem. We did note that our footing was not sound, since
the field was very slick after some recent rains. That fact would come back to
haunt us.

Since
there were five of us, we decided the two old guys would take on the two young
guys, and Timothy would play center and pass receiver on both teams.

The
slick field gave us old guys an advantage because the speed of the younger
folks was somewhat negated. However, I probably should have sensed we were in
trouble when, after the first pass play, my brother-in-law came back and said
to me, “I think you need to run a pattern. I twisted my knee.” Plus, he was pretty tired.

I ran two patterns. After
the second pattern, I returned to the huddle drenched in sweat. I practically looked like Jennifer Beals in
FLASHDANCE after she poured a bucket of water on herself. Walking on the treadmill does not equate to running
pass patterns against college kids.

In
order to prevent our lungs from exploding, David and I decide to take turns
playing quarterback. It also helped that Timothy could catch and run well.

I
must confess, initially I viewed him as our liability. Ultimately, I viewed him
as our salvation.

We
had a nice game going, and except forthose passes that I threw to the
ground when David and Timothy were open, I felt I threw the ball fairly well.
(Strangely enough, I seemed to throw better when the receiver was covered.)

This
leads me to our finest hour, or our moment of tragedy, depending on how you
want to view it. David decided he would run a “streak” pattern down the left
sideline. (A “streak” is running in a straight line as fast as you can toward
the goal line.)

He
was well covered by one of our nephews, so I threw the ball about the only
place I could throw it. It was catchable, but it was by necessity pretty far
ahead of David. This kept the ball from being intercepted. David, running full
speed, made a great catch. Unfortunately, his momentum carried him to the
ground.

He
rolled on his right shoulder. He came up and very calmly said, “I think that's it. I think we're going to have to stop.”

I asked him if it was his knee. He said, “No,
I think I broke my shoulder.” Considering how calm he was, I was hoping that he
had misdiagnosed his injury.

We
immediately got inside his vehicle. I drove us to the emergency room of the
hospital in Cleburne. Incidentally, if you ever need to go the emergency room,
go to that one in Cleburne on Thanksgiving Day. There was absolutely no one
there when we arrived except for hospital personnel!

David was immediately
escorted to the x-ray room. We waited there for x-rays to be processed. Medical personnel cut David's shirt off for him. This caused me to experience a flashback:

When I was a sophomore in high school, I was headed for a touchdown when a linebacker caught me from behind, jumped on my back, and rode me to the ground. (I never said I was fast.)

I saw a bright light and heard my collarbone break. One of our coaches and a player helped me walk off the field to the bench.

With deep compassion, my coach said, "Edge, that jersey cost a lot of money. We ain't cutting that jersey off."

By golly, they didn't either. They tugged and pulled until that thing came off.

The
diagnosis was that David's collarbone had a terrible break. The ends of the
bones were shattered. They had to do surgery on Friday. He has to miss six
weeks of work.

David
has been a real trooper throughout this ordeal. He does not blame me. In fact,
he says I threw a good pass to the only place I could have thrown it.

The doctor told David to retire from football; he cannot afford any more broken bones. While I have not heard him say he
considers himself the luckiest man on the face of the earth, I have heard him
say he has no regrets.

Besides,
David says the doctor has not told him to retire from basketball….

What
have I learned from this? I don’t know.

I
don’t want to be stupid, but I don’t want to quit living, either. Seems like
when people start trying to live cautiously, the process of dying accelerates. Most people I
know who have broken their hips have done so trying to be careful.

I
just hope my exit injury is less catastrophic than David's—like, say, a pulled hamstring. Maybe there is something to be said for getting so old, no one picks you to
play on their team. That's it--forced retirement!

Five Things I Think I Think

(with a nod
to Peter King for this idea)

1. Was that Case McCoy I saw lead the Texas Longhorns to a big win in
the last minute of the ballgame against A&M Thursday night? Or was it Colt
McCoy?

Don't
get me wrong; I love Bart Starr. I find him to be as decent a human being as
there is, but he is human. Indeed, Starr himself went into much more detail
about his humanity in his autobiography than did Dunnavant. Nevertheless,
Dunnavant did break new ground--thanks to the dozens of interviews he
conducted.

Best
of all, I think Dunnavant provides intriguing statistical material making the
case that Bart Starr is the greatest NFL quarterback of all time. Some of the
material was gathered by resources such as http://www.coldhardfootballfacts.com/.

This
book is available on Amazon and in Barnes & Noble stores.

3. Making a movie? Want to get the best bang for your buck? Well,
according to the latest FORBES magazine, Shia Labeouf is your guy. For every
dollar you pay him, he will bring in $81. Anne Hathaway is next: $64 for every
one dollar you pay her. The worst deal? Drew Barrymore brings in forty cents
for every dollar paid. Incidentally, I was surprised that Will Ferrell was
third on the worst list: $3.50 for every dollar paid.

4. Why did I get suckered into watching the second season of 24
by my oldest daughter? We have a few episodes to go, and we will have to wait
until Christmas before watching them because she had to return to college.

5. I enjoy religious author Calvin Miller's non-fiction writing more than I do his fiction.

Monday, November 14, 2011

Serendipity—“The faculty or phenomenon of finding valuable or agreeable things not sought for.”

Compliance—“The act or process of submitting, conforming or adapting to a desire, demand, proposal, or regimen as required or requested”

Yesterday, Steve Ridgell spoke to our church. I first heard Steve Ridgell speak when he came to do a youth meeting at my home church in Winnsboro, TX back in the summer of 1978.

I must admit, I did not want to go. This took place over the last free week I had of the summer. I had just resigned from my job sacking groceries at Brookshires–a very important job I might add–so that I might enjoy one last week of vacation before football two-a-days started. However, for the sake of compliance, I attended our youth meeting.

The first thing I heard Steve do was teach a Bible class. I thought to myself, “Okay, this is not so bad.”

Next I heard him preach a sermon. Then I thought to myself, “Hey, this is really pretty good.”

Before too long, I was attending, not because of compliance, but because of desire. Through serendipity, my compliance would lead to a life changing experience. My relationship with Christ was restored; additionally, I grew to be very close friends with Steve Ridgell. He became my mentor and began to disciple me. This influence helped me decide to become a preacher, which was to ultimately become my profession. I know many in Christianity are not big fans of compliance, nor should we be.

Sometimes, though, compliance can be a good thing. I know I am thankful that as a 17-year-old in the summer before my senior year, I was compliant. It changed my life.

Five Things
I Think I Think

(with a nod
to Peter King for this idea)

1. So, anything happened at Penn State last week?

Wow, how quickly things change. When I was writing my “five things” last week, Penn State was barely on the radar. Now the winningest college football coach of all time has been fired. How tragic it had to end this way.

I saw over the weekend that Barry Switzer reacted in an interview in this way: “Having been in this profession a long time and knowing how close coaching staffs are, I knew that this was a secret that was kept secret. Everyone on that staff had to have known, the ones that had been around a long time.”

I never thought I would see the day when Barry Switzer would chastize Joe Paterno on matters of morality—and be right.

I saw a story yesterday where Joe Paterno was compared to a character in a Greek tragedy. That is probably an apt comparison, but the ultimate victims of tragedy are the boys. I know my prayers go out to the families of the victims.

2. As I've mentioned last week in a tweet, someone had a great idea for Penn State—hire Tony Dungy. That would restore respect to the University. His reputation is impeccable—perhaps greater than Paterno’s was at its peak. Not only that, I see Dungy’s hire as coming the closest to recruiting better football players than any other coach I can think of.

3. I have begun reading Walter Isaacson's biography on Steven Jobs. I say “reading;” actually, I checked out the unabridged audio book from the public library. Let me sum up in one word my opinion about 1/5 of the way through–spectacular! Just an absolutely fascinating and incredible read.

My favorite unknown tidbit so far–as a young man, Steve Jobs attempted many faddish diets. One of them was a fruit diet that supposedly eliminated any problems with mucus; moreover, it supposedly eliminated body odor. Consequently, Jobs became convinced he only needed to bathe once a week. Furthermore, he was convinced he had no need for deodorant.

There was absolutely no other human being on the planet who agreed with Jobs. Consistently…constantly… to his face… behind his back, people complained about his body odor. Keep in mind, this was occurring while Stephen Jobs and Steve Wozniak were founding Apple.

You think you've got problems? Consider this–you want to introduce a product that will change the world, and you've got bad body odor.

4. I find myself wanting to see the movie J. EDGAR. Perhaps if I knew more about it, I would not.

5. Thanks Steve and Marsha Ridgell for visiting us at Shiloh this past weekend. Steve, you hit it out of the park in your seminar on “Sharing our Story.” You've got a great ministry at Herald of Truth. Marsha, you've got a great ministry in the Kingdom of God.

Monday, November 7, 2011

Last
month, the news reported an event that made me think of something I heard Tommy
Nelson tell about in a sermon over twenty years ago.

A church
had welcomed a little six-year-old boy who had begun attending their church.
Members observed something erratic about his behavior, so they decided to find
out more about him.

Some
of the members asked the boy about his parents. The boy told them that his
mother was dead and that his aunt was raising him.

They
asked him, "Where do you live?"

He replied, "I live
in a box."

"How
big a box?"

The
boy used his hands to indicate how big the box was.

They asked,
"You sleep there?"

"No,
I live there."

"You
eat there?"

"Yeah."

"When
do you get out?"

"When
I go to the bathroom. When I go to church."

Now,
these church members took into account they were speaking with a six-year-old.
Consequently, they decided to visit the boy’s house.

When
they arrived, they found this little boy was not living in a box; instead, he
was living in a casket—in a coffin. His mother had died when he was born. His
aunt was granted custody. She thought that he was brain damaged.

In
her perverted way of coping with a fallen world, she purchased an old, unsold
casket and made the boy live inside. She would feed him, and then she would put
the lid down on the coffin. The boy never complained for one simple reason—his
aunt had told him that all little boys lived in boxes.

The story is awful;
yet, like Tommy Nelson, I have met many people symbolically experiencing that
life. They live in a casket—and don’t even realize it. They live life believing
that once you go into a casket, you will never come out.

They
believe this is normal because they are surrounded by people, who, just like
them, live in doubt and fear of death.

I
want you to know – I do not live my life in a casket! I know that even though a
time will come when I will be placed in a coffin, someday Jesus will bring me
out.

Shortly
before raising Lazarus from the dead, Jesus told Lazarus’ sister, Martha, “I am the
resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though
they die”
(John 11:25.) I believe that, and I live my life without fear of death.

2. Two books I have recently begun reading,
having checked them out from our local library:

One is by Tim
Tebow—THROUGH MY EYES. It has been a very good read so far. I am especially
impressed with Tebow’s descriptions of former Alabama coach Mike Shula. Tebow
came within an eyelash of playing for Shula at Alabama. One reason was the
basic decency and Christian faith that Shula demonstrated.

Whoa! Would not college
football have been different had Tebow chosen Alabama?

The other book, from
journalist Jim Newton, is called EISENHOWER: THE WHITE HOUSE YEARS. Newton’s
book is mesmerizing.

Having access to some recently
declassified documents, it crackles with a spirit of freshness and authenticity
I have not encountered in previous Eisenhower biographies—and I have read a
few. The work confirms what many historians have begun arguing a couple of
decades ago. Far from being a detached president, Eisenhower was in total
command of his White House and presidential policy.

3. Every time I see THE TRUMAN SHOW, I am
reminded how great a motion picture it is.

4. Two years in, and I have digitalized half
of my audiotape library. This is taking a lot longer than I thought. I had no
idea how many audiotapes I had collected through the years.

5. Congratulations ETCA girls. Even though
you lost in the state semi-finals last weekend, you have taken the program to
new heights.